


Enough

by tomanonuniverse



Series: Betrayal of the Soul [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)
Genre: Alive Dettlaff van der Eretein, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Blood, Blood Drinking, Canon-Typical Violence, Don't copy to another site, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, M/M, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Protective Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Soul Bond, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 11:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25470088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomanonuniverse/pseuds/tomanonuniverse
Summary: Dettlaff sits back onto his heels and curls in on himself, burying his face in his hands. How could he have done the things he had? Regis always said he was impulsive, but this… Countless lives were lost, including the life of his blood brother's mate, and they all died by his hand. He was right in his anger, he knows that much, but it's no excuse.Geralt didn't even want to fight him.
Relationships: Dettlaff van der Eretein & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Dettlaff van der Eretein & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: Betrayal of the Soul [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1844908
Comments: 20
Kudos: 241





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> ah shit, here we go again

“I don’t want to fight you, Dettlaff,” is the first thing that flies out of the witcher’s mouth as Rhena— no,  _ Sylvia-Anna—  _ bursts into a swarm of petals and disappears from his grip, missing the stab of his claws into her heart. The higher vampire in question looks up just in time to see Regis staring at the White Wolf with a shocked expression, which slowly dissipates into a soft,  _ fond  _ smile, and that is just  _ it. _

He snarls, his transformation triggering far quicker than it ever had due to his all-consuming rage.  _ “You never should have meddled, witcher!”  _ He exclaims, then lunges forward at the white-haired man. Except he gets tackled mid-air and rolls away on the ground alongside Regis, the one who body slammed him. 

When he stands, he sees the pain in Regis's eyes. The witcher is shouting at them to stop and it brings a grimace to his blood brother's features. He's fighting him to protect the witcher, Dettlaff realizes, and the betrayal cuts deeper than he thought it would. But even when it hurts so, Regis is getting in his way. He needs to kill the witcher, the one who let Rh— Sylvia-Anna— escape. He needs to, even if it is the last thing he will ever do. 

Even when Regis pins him, he hesitates, and it costs him. When he regains his footing, Dettlaff throws him into the side of the ruins around them as hard as he could. The ancient stone crumbles over Regis and pins him to the ground, not that he would really be able to go anywhere unconscious. 

_ “Regis!”  _ The White Wolf calls, brows furrowed in concern. Dettlaff can hear his heart pounding in his chest, though not nearly as hard as it should be, mutated and all. When the witcher turns to him, he flexes his fingers on the hilt of his sword then swallows, and  _ sheathes it.  _

“I said: I  _ don’t want to fight you,  _ Dettlaff,” he insists, shaking his head slowly but not daring to take a step in any direction. For a moment, Dettlaff falters. He can hear the pleading, placating tone in Geralt's voice. But he quickly realizes that the witcher most likely isn't trying to reason, but is bargaining for his life. 

Dettlaff snarls again and this time, there is no one to protect the White Wolf from the Beat of Beauclair. He charges forward and grabs the witcher before he could say his own name. A hand tangles into his hair and yanks his head to the side and the witcher  _ howls _ when Dettlaff sinks his teeth into his neck. He writhes in pain, thrashing against him and fruitlessly pushing at his shoulders. 

Eventually, the fight leaves him. His frantic hands slow until they fall and hang limply at his sides. Once Dettlaff is satisfied with the lifelessness of his form, he drops his drained body onto the cold floor and wipes at his mouth with the back of his now more human hand. Witchers taste stranger than humans, he thinks, but he finds he can't truly be bothered with that now. He still has to find Syanna. 

A groan from his left draws his attention and he scowls at Regis. The higher vampire is now back with them and is moaning in pain, his power sapped from him after the very brief fight with Dettlaff. He wants to go to him, but the betrayal is still ringing in his ears, the wound too fresh. Regis chose the witcher over him, over their blood bound souls. He can't move himself to aid him even if he tried. 

“Ungh,” Regis groans weakly, pushing the boulders off himself and rising to his hands and knees. He shakes his head wildly, as though trying to clear it. Suddenly, however, he becomes as still as a statue. Most likely, he noticed how quiet the world around him was.

He raises his head slowly and Dettlaff's eyes widen when a look of absolute  _ despair  _ overtakes the vampire's face.  _ “Geralt!”  _ He wails, abandoning all sense of self for his injuries and crawling desperately to the limp witcher’s side. Dettlaff can't even blink, because Regis is cradling the White Wolf, pulling him into his lap and crying to him like he was heard. 

A pit begins to form in Dettlaff's stomach the more he watches. He had never, in all their years of knowing and understanding one another, seen Regis  _ this  _ distraught. Tears stream down his pale face at a ridiculous speed and his hands, the hands of a higher vampire, shake as they desperately hold onto the still unmoving White Wolf. 

The moment their eyes meet, it clicks. Dettlaff feels the color drain from his face, feels his blood turn to ice and his throat constrict to nothing. 

Geralt was Regis's mate.  _ Was,  _ because Dettlaff just killed him. 

His knees buckle before he could help it and he falls next to them. Regis pulls Geralt's body tighter to himself and sobs louder, a sound that pierces right through Dettlaff's forgotten fury. He hadn't known. If he had, he would have  _ never  _ put Regis in that position, never have forced him to choose such a thing. He wouldn't have harmed a hair on Geralt's head. But he  _ hadn't known. _

“... Regis,” he starts weakly, “Regis, I did not  _ know—”  _

_ “Don't,”  _ the other growls at him, but it's too tired to hold any actual threat behind it. Still, Dettlaff flinches. “Just…  _ How… _ How  _ could you,  _ Dettlaff?” 

He blanches, tears stinging his own eyes. He knows Regis doesn't just mean Geralt with his words. He means the current onslaught he's wrought upon the city, the murders he immediately took to instead of telling Regis he was being blackmailed, instead of trusting him and asking for his help. “Regis, I am sor—” 

_ “Do  _ **_not!”_ ** Regis screams, baring his fangs to him, now having the threat behind them very real. Dettlaff is successfully silenced, so he returns to his grieving, holding the corpse of his witcher, his  _ lover,  _ in his arms and weeping to mourn him. 

Dettlaff sits back onto his heels and curls in on himself, burying his face in his hands. How  _ could  _ he have done the things he had? Regis always said he was impulsive, but  _ this…  _ Countless lives were lost, including the life of his blood brother's mate, and they all died by  _ his  _ hand. He was right in his anger, he knows that much, but it's  _ no excuse.  _

Geralt didn't even want to fight him. 

The taste of his blood is no longer strange. It's vile and foul and  _ wrong _ and it lingers in the back of his throat and on his tongue and makes him want to throw up. Just as he thinks he might do just that, he hears something. It's very faint, very distant, and very weak, but he hears it all the same. A beat. 

A  _ heart _ beat. 

He looks up at Geralt with wide eyes. The man still looks dead, but there's no mistaking what he just heard,  _ because he hears it again.  _ “Regis,” he stammers, crouching closer to the two of them and reaching out a hand. “Regis, he is—” 

_ “Don't touch us!”  _ Regis shouts at him, pulling Geralt away and ignoring the hurt that flashes on Dettlaff's face. “Stay  _ away,  _ Dettlaff,  _ have you not done enough?”  _

“Regis,” he soldiers on regardless, “I think he is  _ alive.  _ Listen.”

The words make them both freeze, holding their unneeded breaths. When the beat sounds again, a frail little thing in Geralt's chest, Regis chokes in disbelief.  _ “Geralt,”  _ he sobs. “Geralt,  _ Geralt.  _ My love, can you hear me? Are you there? Can you respond to me?” 

But Geralt does not move. Dettlaff falters. Perhaps he shouldn't have told Regis what he heard. If he had given him false hope… 

“We must go,” Regis suddenly says, startling his blood brother to attention.  _ “Now,  _ we must leave, for Corvo Bianco. Geralt told me— He told me he found an alchemy lab in his cellar while renovating. It's advanced— with his garden, we can make the potions he needs. We can  _ save him.” _

Dettlaff swallows, eyes wide and shoulders tense.  _ “We?”  _ He asks, his voice smaller than it had ever been. 

Regis turns to him and for a moment, does nothing but stare at him in deep thought. Then, he shakes his head rapidly, again to clear his thoughts. “There is no  _ time,”  _ he says instead, shakily moving to his feet and holding Geralt up with him. “We must go  _ now.  _ If he survives, then we will talk.”

Dettlaff nods. He takes Syanna's horse while Regis hauls Geralt onto Roach then settles behind him. As they gallop back into the city, to Corvo Bianco, Dettlaff shuts his eyes and sends a message to the remaining brethren of his pack— _enough._

Settling things with Syanna will have to come later. Right now, he has to ensure that Geralt of Rivia survives this night, no matter the cost. 


End file.
